Very Close Something
by Malvolia
Summary: It's amazing how much thinking can actually happen with your face half a centimeter away from somebody else's. Juliet & Shawn POV's on the very close talking scene in Bounty Hunters.
1. Juliet

Her internal voice had kicked out again, for the second time that day, and when it switched back on it was literally screaming. Well, "literally" in the "misusing the word literally" sort of way.

The interruption of internal voice service was the only way to explain why, by the time she heard "STOP" so loud in her head that she was surprised nobody else had heard it, she was a fraction of an inch from Shawn Spencer. Literally.

_Literally_ literally.

The voice was obviously still struggling to assert itself, because she didn't step back or shut him down cold. Instead, she was breathing the same air he was (practically his recycled air, actually, judging from the warmth of his breath on her face) and accidentally memorizing the smell of his cologne.

"This is Shawn Spencer," said the internal voice. Rational Juliet weighing in.

"Shawn Spencer, bounty hunter," came the other, lonelier voice. The voice from this morning. Jules.

"_Why_ did you name your other voice Jules?" nagged Rational Juliet, but Jules was too busy drinking in the moment.

"You'll hate yourself for this," said Rational Juliet.

"Later."

"Don't you already hate yourself for this? Just a little bit?"

So she made sure he knew it would be a mistake to progress beyond close talking. One of those little mistakes that would change the course of your whole life sort of mistakes. Maybe he wouldn't think so, but...

Rational Juliet had seen Shawn around lots of other women, and had no desire to be a notch on his bedpost. The sort of behavior he was exhibiting now probably got loads of lesser women to fall into bed with him. She was proud of herself for resisting.

Jules was pretty sure he wasn't all that bad. She believed people could change. People could, for instance, grow up, give up one-night stands, and become fully actualized, mature—albeit quirkishly childlike—human beings.

Even if people could change, and even if by "people" Jules meant "Shawn," it wasn't as though Rational Juliet was considering a serious relationship. Marriage. Ugh. So...conventional. Stifling. Boring. So _not_ what she had ever, ever wanted.

"This isn't marriage. This isn't a serious relationship. This isn't even kissing," said Jules.

"You are _not_ buying that close talking bit."

She wasn't. And when she asked what else Shawn had to say to her, she was kind of hoping it involved a lot of careful and elaborate enunciation, and a lot of words with W's in them.

But then, a half-kiss and a "Good night, detective" were enough to satisfy Jules and Rational Juliet both. Mostly. The gun and stopwatch could handle the rest.

Or at least distract Jules long enough for Rational Juliet to regain full control.

All things considered, it had been a weird day.


	2. Shawn

Unlike Juliet, and possibly Gus, Shawn did not subdivide the voices in his head. Up there, it was all Shawn, all the time.

He hadn't come back to kiss her. He just needed to see her. It had been a weird day, and he wanted to be sure she was all right. On the way in he was trying to think of a good one-liner to make her laugh, but she started right in on the serious talk.

Contrary to his dad's frequent assertions, Shawn _did _have a serious bone in his body. More than one, even. He could track with serious.

So when she started coming down on herself for one little mistake, he was ready with his serious response. Because everybody made mistakes. He should know. And friends—the really good kind of friend, like Gus was for Shawn, or like Shawn wanted to be for Juliet—were there for you when you screwed up.

Funny thing—when he put his hand on her shoulder, it was nothing at all like reassuring Gus.

Which was how he ended up nose-to-nose with his good friend Jules.

Which was way too close to be _completely_ serious.

Knowing her as he did, he figured her mind was operating at the speed of light, rationalizing this latest slip and trying to explain it away with fatigue or stress or whatever. He'd had other opportunities to kiss women who were on the fence about whether or not they wanted to kiss him back. He'd taken every one.

Shawn's mind operated at light-speed, too, but he wasn't reviewing objections. He was reviewing Juliet.

The slightly high-strung young detective who always felt underestimated.

The ditzy sorority sister.

The feverish dancer.

The woman who scorned the idea of marriage but had her wedding planned to the most miniscule detail.

The crazy person who had unspeakable things in mind for her future husband and their future...after-birth...ritual thingy...

He didn't just want this kiss. He wanted it all.

Okay, so he took part of the kiss. While he was there. And because any woman who would talk that close for more than a second or two had really already decided what she wanted. Even if she couldn't admit it yet.

Other than that, for pretty much the first time in his life, Shawn postponed instant gratification because he had an eye on the future.

He grinned as he walked down the hall at the incongruous thought that popped into his head: _So there, Dad._


End file.
